


I've Lost Control (But I Don't Want It Back)

by orphan_account



Series: I'll Take Your Heart Served Up Two Ways [2]
Category: Fall Out Boy
Genre: (somewhat) rough sex, Anal Sex, Bottom!Pete, I am bad at tagging honestly, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Riding, Smut, Top!Patrick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-29
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-09 03:26:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7784908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A PWP I wrote for the, um, *healing* process.</p><p>Of the mind.</p><p>And the heart.</p><p>And the undying necessity of smutty Peterick fics.</p><p>You know the drill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've Lost Control (But I Don't Want It Back)

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Ottilade, who requested a sequel to These Words Are All I Have (Just Not For Long).
> 
> That one gives a little backstory, but you don't necessarily need it to understand this fic. Just enjoy the smutty goodness I guess xD
> 
> Title from P!ATD's Nicotine because I'm lyric title trash.

There's a loud thump as Pete is slammed up against the door.

Patrick attacks his lips with a ferocity that's almost frightening, but Pete loves it. Their bodies are flush against each other, no space left between their chests, their stomachs, down to their hips, and it feels so good, a warm ache spreading through Pete's limbs. He's so turned on, he's going lightheaded, and he's a little limp against Patrick, who's still pinning him to the door, kissing him like tomorrow will never come.

Then Patrick moves to his neck, mouthing his way across Pete's collarbone at lightning speed. "God, Pete," he murmurs in between kisses, "your fucking mouth, I swear..." Pete lets out a small whimper at the words, and Patrick pulls away, his eyes dark with arousal. "Come on," he growls, and dear lord, how Pete adores that low tone.

Then Patrick's got a hand clenched around Pete's wrist, tugging him towards the bed. The next thing he knows, he's being thrown onto the mattress, all their clothes (with the exception of their boxers) have mysteriously disappeared, and Patrick is clambering into his lap. Wow, alright, this is all happening very fast. 

Pete can't say that he doesn't like it. Patrick grinds down on him, tearing moans from both their swollen lips. "Wanna ride you," Patrick whispers, hot breath tickling the shell of his ear, and Pete whimpers, bucking his hips.

Patrick knows exactly how to get to him, what he likes, what drives him to the edge and back.

Speaking of the edge.

Patrick slides away their underwear, and Pete moans, closing his eyes against the sight of naked, much-too-hot-for-Pete's-health Patrick, even though he's seen him like this countless times now.

But instead of touching Pete, Patrick settles himself at the end of the bed and leans back, slicking his fingers up with lube and sinking two into himself. "F-fuck..." Pete whimpers, unable to look away. Patrick smirks at him, and Pete lunges forward, because goddammit, he needs to touch Patrick  _now_ or he's going to fucking  _die._

Of course, Patrick dodges his desperate advances, and Pete falls on his face (on the mattress, thankfully).

This makes Patrick laugh softly, and, well, Pete can't really be mad at him when he laughs like that. He flips over onto his back with a grunt of effort, staring up into Patrick's blue eyes, pupils still blown dark, but they hold as much love as they ever have.

Then, in a flash, Patrick's straddled him again, and the moment is gone. Pete can't blame him, honestly: he really does want to come sometime in the next few months.

Patrick grinds down on him, kissing his neck until Pete is whimpering and pawing at his shoulders. "F-fuck, Patrick,  _please,_ " he gasps, pleasure rolling through him.

Patrick licks a hot stripe over his nipple, and Pete _squeaks,_ hips bucking up. "Please what?" Pete can hear the smirk in Patrick's low voice, and he does not really want to put up with this right now. "Touch me, f-fuck me, ride me, I don't c-care, just  _do something!_ " He's practically wailing by the end of his sentence, but he doesn't give a shit, because his skin is burning everywhere they touch and he needs Patrick  _now._

And by some miracle, Patrick complies instead of teasing him further. Pete throws his head back, clenching his eyes shut as Patrick sinks down on his cock. " _Fuck!_ " Pete whines, despite the fact that they've done this countless times by now. They know each other inside and out (admittedly, Patrick knows him a bit better, given that he's read Pete's little "journal"), literally. And yet it somehow feels like heaven on earth each and every time.

Patrick moans from above him, establishing a rhythm of up-and-down movements. Pete grips his hips, most likely leaving faint bruises. God, he's getting close already...

Then Patrick climbs off.

" _What the fuck?_ " Pete howls, eyes flying open as he stares at Patrick in disbelief. The younger man just shrugs, a shit-eating grin already taking residence on his face. His stupid sexy face that Pete would really like to slap right now. "I felt like it."

There's a soft thump as Patrick flops down on his back next to Pete, stroking himself and whimpering. It's a bit exaggerated, as he's doing it for the sole purpose of pissing Pete off, but aggravatingly hot nonetheless.

Pete has had enough.

In a flurry of movement, he rolls over so that he's on top of Patrick, grabs his wrists, and forces them up, pinning them to the bed. Patrick's smirk grows wider. He knows he's pushed the right buttons.

"You are not gonna fucking get away with this, you little shit," Pete snarls. Patrick fucking  _giggles_ and rolls his eyes. "Aren't I, though?"

Pete huffs in frustration, slamming into his boyfriend without warning. Patrick gasps and his hips buck. It's Pete's turn to smirk. "No, you are not." He finds Patrick's prostate and fucks into him with all he's got, despite his exhaustion. Patrick wails and arches up off the bed, shaking as he comes.

White stars blur at the edges of Pete's vision as he comes with a groan, stilling and collapsing onto Patrick, who's still whimpering from the aftershocks of his orgasm.

A few minutes later, Patrick shoves gently at his shoulder. "Dude, get off." He sounds fucking wrecked, and Pete is damn proud of himself for it. But he complies anyway, slumping into the space next to Patrick. "You really were a little shit," he grumbles, and Patrick laughs, shutting him up with a kiss.

"Guess I should be a little shit more often, because that was fucking awesome," he mumbles against Pete's lips, and the latter can't help but grin. "Yeah, okay, maybe it was. I'm still mad at you, though."

"You know you aren't."

"Whatever."

They fall asleep with Patrick's head on Pete's chest, their legs entangled, and tired smiles on both their faces.

**Author's Note:**

> I know this was pretty short, and sorry if it kind of sucked, but I'm tired and a little grumpy and sad, so yeah. Hope it was good though, and I'll churn out some more for this series if anyone wants them. :)


End file.
